Collection
by mochachill
Summary: A relationship, from beginning to end. CiaC. Words listed throughout. A/S


Title: **Collection**   
Author: CJ   
Rating: PG-13   
Category: Romance (CiaC)   
Code: A/S   
Summary: A relationship, from beginning to end. CiaC. Words listed throughout. 

SPECIAL NOTE: The LD Awards are currently running. Nomination must be in by July 30, at which point voting will begin. If you are a fan of Hoshi fic, please do your favorite authors the service of voting for them.  **www.lingdata.net**  
  
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"I'm on leave from Starfleet, remember? You'd have to forcibly recall me, which would require a reprimand, which would disqualify me from serving on an active vessel." Ensign Sato smiled smugly at Captain Archer.   
  
"I need someone with your ear."   
  
"And you'll have her," she assured him. "In three weeks."   
  
Three weeks wasn't soon enough. It was time to pull out the big guns.   
  
Producing a recorder from his pocket, he pressed the play button. An angry voice speaking in a guttural language began to stream out.   
  
It took a great act of will to suppress his smile when she leaned closer and said, "What's that?"   
  
-----   
  
_Man, Flabbergasted, Uniform_   
  
Tinny music surprised Jon when he opened the door to the mess.   
  
A woman sat with her back to the room, perusing a pile of data padds in front of her. Long dark hair hung loose over the back of her chair. Unlike him, she was out of uniform, dressed in comfy-looking clothes. She turned her head slightly and Jon saw that she was wearing a set of tiny headphones.   
  
Her head started to move in time with the tune. Her feet, propped on a chair set at an angle from her, twitched along.   
  
Jon grinned.   
  
Walking over, he reached down and plucked a headphone from one ear. Startled eyes met his.   
  
"Tell me," Jon said. "How can someone with your hearing stand how loud this is? I could hear it from across the room."   
  
Hoshi smiled, recognition replacing surprise. She took the headphone from his hand, pulling the set off. "Sorry, sir. Sometimes the sounds of the ship still get to me. This is the best way to drown them out."   
  
She put her feet back on the floor, nodding to the chair. Jon accepted the offer, sitting down. "You keep listening to it at that volume, and you're going to lose that famous hearing." He suddenly realized that he sounded like someone's father. He added, "That's valuable Starfleet equipment—we can't afford to risk it."   
  
Her smile widened. Lifting the small player out of her lap, she extracted the headphones. Upbeat music filled the room. "Better?"   
  
"Much." Jon stood up, heading over to the drink dispenser. "Iced tea," he ordered. He glanced at her. "Anything?"   
  
She shook her head.   
  
Taking the drink, Jon wandered back to her table and sat. "So, why are you up at this hour? You don't strike me as a night owl."   
  
"Sounds," she said, waving her hand vaguely at the ceiling. "Thought I might as well get some work done. You, sir?"   
  
"Oh, you know. Just one of those nights." He didn't really feel like talking about himself. "I have to admit, I don't exactly have my finger on the pulse of modern music. What are we listening to?"   
  
"A mixture of some of my favorites…" She rattled off a list of names, none of which Jon recognized.   
  
"I think my age is showing," he admitted, grinning self-deprecatingly.   
  
She laughed. The sound was charming. "That's ok, sir. I've also got a few oldies mixed in that you might know."   
  
On cue, the song ended and one that Jon remembered from his youth started.   
  
"See?" she said.   
  
"I can't tell you how disturbing it is that this song is considered an 'oldie' now."   
  
Her first laugh had been authentic, but light. This time it came from her belly, bursting out loud. It was also infectious and Jon joined her.   
  
"I wouldn't worry, sir. With your build, no one is going to accuse you of being old," Hoshi told him. Instantly, her face turned bright pink.   
  
Although he was mildly embarrassed himself, the idea that Hoshi had noticed his build gave Jon a pleasantly warm feeling.   
  
An uncomfortable lull followed. Exhausted by weeks of insomnia, Jon was feeling a little loopy. Without thinking, he started to sing along with the music.   
  
Awkwardness appearing to fade a little, Hoshi tilted her head. "You have a beautiful voice."   
  
Jon nodded in mock pride. "You think that's something, you should see me dance." He picked up his glass and took a drink.   
  
"If there was a little more room in here, I might take you up on that," Hoshi teased. "It's been a long time since anyone asked me to dance." She tossed her head to push back the hair that had crept over her shoulder.   
  
"I'll make sure the next shore leave includes dancing," Jon promised. "I'm betting your dance card won't be empty for long."   
  
Hoshi glanced down, then gave him a small smile. Leaning forward, she let her fingers brush his on the table. "Maybe," she said gently. "I guess I'll just have to tell them that I've already had a better offer."   
  
Jon's eyes widened. Before he could say anything, Hoshi stood and grabbed her padds.   
  
"Guess I'll turn in. Goodnight," she said in a chipper voice.   
  
She swept out of the mess, leaving a flabbergasted man in her wake.   
  
-----   
  
_Ensign, Nestled, Hand_   
  
"This is not a good idea," Hoshi whispered. Their lips were only a breath apart.   
  
"You're right," Jon agreed softly. She was nestled in his arms, which were resting against the wall on either side of her. Her body heat was mingling with his. The effect was…distracting. It made it hard to remember duty or regulations.   
  
Her gaze drifted from his eyes, down to his lips, and back up again. She pressed her lips together nervously and released a little sigh.   
  
"I'm an Ensign," she reminded him. "Starfleet regulations…"   
  
For the first time in his life, Jon thought, _The__ hell with Starfleet._   
  
He cut off her sentence by laying his mouth over hers.   
  
She made a startled noise. And her hand snaked up to the nape of his neck, drawing him in closer.   
  
-----   
  
_Yellow, Strawberry, Husband_   
  
"I'm too old to get married." Jon peered nervously in the mirror. He brushed at the yellow piping of his dress uniform, trying to remove a nonexistent piece of lint. Then he leaned in close and inspected the lines on his face.   
  
"You're too old to be a fool," Trip answered. He moved up beside Jon, pushing the Captain aside so that he could look in the mirror. He responded to the look Jon gave him with a wide grin. "You know a good thing when you've got it."   
  
"When you're right, you're right." Smiling nervously, Jon wandered over to the balcony doors. The suite overlooked a gorgeous expanse of ocean and beach.   
  
"Damn straight I am." Still inspecting his uniform, Trip paused at a knock in the door. "C'mon in," he called.   
  
"Gentlemen." Immaculately dressed, Malcolm hurried into the room, grinning broadly. "Refreshment." He held up a bottle. "Thought you could do with something to calm the nerves, sir."   
  
Jon walked over to him, chuckling. "That may be the best idea you've had yet, Malcolm. And you've had quite a few good ones."   
  
Trip was already digging in a cabinet for glasses. "Classy place," he commented upon finding several champagne flutes. He set three out on a table and took the bottle. He opened it, using a corkscrew he'd also uncovered, and poured them each a drink. He handed the first glass to Jon.   
  
"Here, I think you need this more than me."   
  
Jon grinned wryly and sipped at the champagne.   
  
With a flourish, Malcolm offered the small glass dish he'd been carrying in his other hand. "Strawberry?" he said in a formal voice.   
  
Trip and Jon looked from him to the dish doubtfully.   
  
"Do those really make it taste better?" Trip asked him.   
  
"I wouldn't know. If I ate one, I would swell up like a balloon and likely die," Malcolm returned. Having determined that neither of them was eager, he placed the dish on a tabletop. "But my mother always told me one should never serve champagne without strawberries." He stopped to pick up his glass and took a sip.   
  
He gave the glass an appreciative look. "Not bad." He looked at Jon. "I have to say, sir, of all the bridge crew, I never would have guessed that you would be the first to marry." He took another sip, and added, "Always assumed it would be Trip."   
  
Trip spared him an indignant glance. Turning back to Jon, he said, "I don't know if it counts as _the_ first, technically. Since you're marrying a member of the bridge crew. Who takes the vows first again…the husband or the wife?" He didn't bother waiting for an answer. "Anyway, luck was watching out for you on this one."   
  
"Luck, combined with a little Archer charm and good looks," Jon told him cheerfully. Listening to his friends, his apprehension was fading.   
  
"Uh-huh," Trip said dryly. He raised his glass. "To luck."   
  
Jon shook his head. "To Hoshi."   
  
-----   
  
_Angel, Surly, Phase Pistol_   
  
"I told you to stay on the shuttlepod," Jon said angrily. He glared at his wife. Fire from an alien weapon hit the wall above their heads, raining sparks down on them. They were crouched behind another wall within a half-destroyed structure.   
  
"And I told you I'm not sitting out away missions just because I'm your wife," Hoshi informed him in a surly voice. "If you're going to go in there and get T'Pol, you'll need cover fire."   
  
He knew perfectly well that she was terrified, but she was putting up a great front. He gave her another annoyed look, even though he saw the reality in her words.   
  
Sensing that he was weakening, Hoshi brandished her phase pistol. "It's that or you provide cover while _I_ go in there. And I'm a better shot than you now."   
  
Weapons fire was still hitting around them sporadically. Ducking a particularly close shot, Jon tried to come up with a feasible alternative. Nothing came to mind.   
  
He nodded.   
  
Hoshi laid her hand on his cheek. "Be careful," she said. He briefly put his hand over hers. Then he turned towards the nearest break in the wall.   
  
The last thing he saw before he dove into the midst of the firefight was his wife, eyes alight with fury as she fired ruthlessly at their enemy—an avenging angel in Starfleet blue.   
  
-----   
  
_Daughter, Enmity, Words_   
  
A crashing sound from the kitchen pulled Jon's attention from his polo game.   
  
"Hoshi?! Everything ok?!" She didn't answer his inquiring shout. Standing, he hurried over and stuck his head into the next room.   
  
Hoshi was sitting on the floor, crying over a broken plate.   
  
All these years, and he was still baffled by what could trigger her tears. The one thing he did understand—it was important that he choose his next words carefully. He went into the room and squatted beside her.   
  
"Hey…it's just a plate. Don't cry, sweetheart." He wasn't sure if he should laugh or be worried. He rubbed her back lightly.   
  
Hoshi looked at him, eyes brimming. "I know…but this is the second one I've broken from the set, and it's my favorite." She snuffled.   
  
Jon couldn't help chuckling, earning himself a glare. He started picking up the pieces. "We'll buy more."   
  
She sighed. "It's not just the plate."   
  
He stopped what he was doing, giving her his full attention.   
  
"I spoke to Ami today."   
  
_Ah…_ All of a sudden, things were making a lot more sense.   
  
"Jon, what kind of mother am I? I can't even talk to my own daughter without it ending in a screaming match."   
  
The relationship between Hoshi and Ami had been rocky since their daughter was a small child. Jon had hoped that things would improve after Ami went to the Academy. Instead, the strain between them had only increased. Their relationship often bordered on out and out enmity.   
  
Jon had been playing referee for years; he was good at it by now. Leaving the shards of plate where they lay, he pulled Hoshi up with him and led her over to sit at the kitchen table.   
  
"First of all, you're one of the best mothers out there. You have a great relationship with Henry and Kaiya." He grinned. "Second of all…Ami's a real pain in the ass sometimes."   
  
Hoshi laughed.   
  
He loved to hear her laugh.   
  
"This will blow over, Hoshi. She'll pout for a few days—but sooner or later she's going to need to do laundry. Her wardrobe is a lot more important to her than her pride. She'll come breezing in like it never happened."   
  
Wiping the last of her tears from her cheeks, Hoshi looked at him gratefully. "I love you." She sat forward, kissing him soundly.   
  
She started to end the kiss, but he tugged her back for a follow-up. Once he finally released her, he smiled.   
  
"I love you, too."   
  
-----   
  
_Jon, Clean, Ivory_   
  
Sweaty bodies collapsed on ivory sheets. For a moment, they lay there panting. Summoning all his remaining strength, Jon raised his head enough to look at her and said, "Wow."   
  
"Uh-huh." She turned her head enough to grin at him.   
  
Jon chuckled. "For a linguist, you're not very articulate sometimes."   
  
"I'm conserving my strength." She sighed. "I have to take a shower soon." She wrinkled her nose. "And you need to clean up even more than I do."   
  
Jon scooted over so that his face hovered over hers. "What is that supposed to mean?"   
  
She snickered up at him. Opening her eyes wide, she feigned innocence. "Nothing."   
  
Jon tipped his head and kissed her leisurely. She trailed her fingers over his back.   
  
Sitting up again, Jon said, "You know, I really _am_ too old for this."   
  
"The price you pay for falling for a younger woman."   
  
"Insatiable woman, you mean."   
  
Smiling, she rolled them over so that she was looking down on him.   
  
Jon touched her face, enjoying the feel of her bare skin on his. "So…how much time do you need to get ready?"   
  
"I can shower and get dressed in twenty minutes if I need to."   
  
"Make it ten."   
  
-----   
  
_Archer, Swayed, Window_   
  
"Captain Archer?"   
  
"Yes?"   
  
"He's arrived. Should I send him in?"   
  
"Yes, please."   
  
Evening was falling and the room was gloomy. _I should probably turn on the lights…_ But somehow the dreariness seemed appropriate.   
  
The office door opened, letting in a sliver of light as a man entered. The newcomer waited for the door to close before speaking.   
  
"Hoshi?"   
  
Turning from the window, where rain drizzled, she offered him a gentle smile. "Hi. How did you get here so fast?"   
  
"I left ten minutes after I heard." Travis looked the same—tall, handsome, strong. The only difference was a slight graying at his temples.   
  
Her own hair was naturally streaked with silver. However, she'd never been a believer in the "grow old gracefully" platitude, so she mercilessly dyed the gray out.   
  
"Hoshi, are you ok?" His voice was so kind, and so welcome. Up until this point, she'd been surrounded by well-meaning people who barely knew her. Her real friends and her children would arrive in the coming days, but Travis was the first. And the one she'd most needed to see.   
  
Finally, someone she didn't have to be strong for. She swayed with the relief of it. Tears spilled over her cheeks and she shook her head once. She didn't have to speak; almost instantly she was enveloped in his embrace.   
  
She cried it out against his chest. Eventually, her sobs faded into sniffles. Voice muffled, she said, "I'm so glad you're here, Travis."   
  
"Me too." He rubbed his hand over her hair.   
  
"I miss him."   
  
"You're going to be ok, Hoshi. You're not alone."   
  
Hoshi was thinking of Jon. Brief flashes of their life together. The smile on his face the last time she spoke to him. She'd expected to feel pain when she thought of him; instead, she'd found that it only brought her comfort.   
  
In spite of herself, she smiled into Travis's jacket.   
  
"I know."


End file.
